Don't Be Dead
by The Muse of Deduction
Summary: "Saying goodbye means moving on. Moving on means forgetting. How could I forget you?" A oneshot from John's POV a year after Sherlock's 'death.'


**A/N: Hey! Anyways, I started watching Sherlock a week ago(already finished all the episodes) and I loved it so much! Anyways, this is my first fanfic in this fandom, and was written for my sister as a birthday present. Enjoy, and reviews are appreciated!**

**. . .**

It's been a year, and it still hurts so much. I still miss you my friend. I still can't believe you're dead. I can never say it either. Only when the therapist forced me to did it really hit home.

You're _dead_ Sherlock. Dead.

I'm sorry to say that most people were happy or indifferent that you died. But you wouldn't care, would you? The others- Molly, Lestrade, even Mrs. Hudson- have found a way to move on. Not me though. I just can't.

You once said that you didn't have friends. I took a bit of offense to that. Then you told me you only had one friend. Me. I have something to tell you too. You're my only true friend Sherlock. You are, and always will be. And now you're gone.

I was so alone, coming back from the war. I had to return to civilian life, but I craved the excitement of the battlefield. I was prepared to spend the rest of my life in boredom.

And then you popped into my life.

It's safe to say that once we moved into 221B together, there was never a dull moment.

I don't live at Baker Street anymore, there are too many memories. I've moved back into my old flat again. No one has touched the flat though. Everything is just the way you left it. Neither I nor Mrs. Hudson had the heart to touch anything. We both wanted to leave it alone, as a sort of tribute to you.

There's something that I just don't understand. Why did you do it? Why did you jump? Because everyone thought you were a fraud? That could never be it; it just doesn't seem like your style. You would fight to clear your name.

Why did you tell me you were a fake? I know you were lying. You are more brilliant than anyone I have ever met, probably more brilliant than anyone alive. I'm laughing a bit now. That would've inflated your ego so much if I ever said that.

I never got to say a proper goodbye to you. If only I hadn't left! If I didn't leave you alone in the hospital, maybe you would be alive, maybe we would have cleared your name, and maybe we would both be sitting in our flat!

The maybes are driving me crazy. I can't help but blame myself for your death. It seems ridiculous, but I can't stop. It's been so long, but it's impossible for me to get over the fact that you really are dead. The past year has seemed like one big nightmare.

Please Sherlock, don't be dead. Just don't be. Can you do that?

Everyone says I have to face it. I was at the funeral, I saw you jump, and I saw your body on the pavement. I saw the blood, I _didn't_ feel a pulse, and I visited your grave. So why is it so hard to close that chapter of my life and start again?

I don't want to. I don't want to say goodbye. Not to the life I've grown to love, not to the insane things that happened, not to you. I don't want to say goodbye to my best friend. I just can't.

Saying goodbye means moving on. Moving on means forgetting. How could I forget you?

If it's possible, just do one more thing for me. Don't be dead. Tell me this is some clever scheme of yours. That this was all some sort of trick or sick, cruel joke. Tell me anything. Just don't be dead.

It's a struggle every day, to realize that you've gone somewhere that I can't talk to you. That you can't talk to me. No one can help me Sherlock. The only one that could help me at this point would be you. Which is ironic if you ask me.

I miss you more than I can put into words. You were more than just a friend to me. You were like a brother to me. I don't know, nor will I ever know, if you felt the same way. But that's how I felt about you.

You were brilliant, arrogant, sarcastic, and a show off, but the best friend a guy could have. Most people didn't appreciate you, but I did. Most people didn't care about you, but I did. I hope you know that Sherlock, wherever you are now.

Just one last favour for a friend?

Don't be dead.

**. . .**

**I hope I did a decent job. Review maybe to tell me what you think? Constructive criticism is always appreciated.**


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